rock hill
What has befallen the 19th-century Fairfax House, since it was moved for the last time, is pathetic. First, a bit of recent history: After the United African Presbyterian Church congregation vacated the antebellum Rock Hill Presbyterian Church in 2011, Giddings-Lovejoy Presbytery sold the house, ca. 1841, and church property to U-Gas, which built a filling station/convenience store at McKnight and Manchester. Rock Hill city officials leased Fairfax House to the company after it agreed to move the house from its location facing Manchester, just east of the church, at its own expense. So the Greek revival frame house was picked up intact, secured to a flatbed trailer and simply plopped back down on the extreme northern edge of its property, facing McKnight. The church was ‘disassembled’ with a promise to relocate and repurpose it. More on that in a moment.
Since 2012, the house has languished, offering no parking and badly in need of paint on its peeling backside. Incredibly, for the longest time, a ‘For Sale’ sign stood between the house and gas station. Today, a Smoothie King is sandwiched between them. On the National Register, Fairfax House was built for a transplanted Virginian on 500 acres that later became much of Rock Hill. It became a business, then home to the local library. Now it’s an afterthought. Several wooden railing supports are missing from the front porch. Local historians dreamed of its renovation and conversion into an interpretive center. Never happened. (You’d think someone could pay some enterprising teenagers a couple of Benjamins to scrape and slap a few gallons of light blue on the back. It’s a disgrace.) Meanwhile, the stone church was ‘dismantled’ and moved to Warren County, where it was to be rebuilt as a wedding chapel at Cedar Lakes Winery in Foristell. Ostensibly. Wouldn’t the stones have been marked, tagged and taken apart carefully if the building was to be reassembled? Well—although the pews were donated to the Civil War museum at Jefferson Barracks—the erstwhile church, dumped ignominiously like so much construction debris, eventually disappeared, stone by unmarked stone.
the metro
In our world of solo, two-wheeled ride-share, it’s two up and two down—one for good, the other for the time being. Lime (formerly LimeBike) has launched Lime-S dockless electric scooters to complement the 750-odd bicycles that have been here since April. Lime’s bicycles are an unmistakable bright lime green and yellow with a basket between the handlebars. The Chinese company ofo that launched its yellow bicycles a few weeks after Lime’s has gotten the hell out of Dodge … well, the Lou. (Could be it’s not from a tariff war that Uncle Sam won handily, but what the hey. Chant with us, anyhow: U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!) Meanwhile, Lime has expanded its bicycle operation to Clayton. By this writing, Lime-S scooters may have competition from Bird Rides Inc., which also hails from the Left Coast (Lime is based in San Mateo, California). Comparatively speaking, rental scooters from Lime are priced as reasonably as bicycles: Using an app, it’s $1 to unlock a scooter, then 15 cents per minute until it’s locked again. The city clipped Bird’s wings, for awhile. The company has had to pull its scooters off the street until an anticipated city permit will make things all nice and bureaucratic.
kirkwood
About five years ago, I pulled into a 7-Eleven to fill up my lawnmower gas can. Finished after a few seconds, I stuffed a paper towel into the nozzle and closed the hatchback. Wanting to make the most of the trip, I decided to top off the car. I plugged the hose into the tank, slid into the driver’s seat, checked the mirrors and put the car in drive—realizing immediately from the racket that the hose was still attached to the car … but no longer to the pump. Red-faced, I went inside to explain. The clerk, with a wan smile, asked whether I was trying to take home some extra gas for the mower. It turned out to be not that big a deal. Apparently somebody drives off from the store, hose trailing behind, every month or so. I’m just glad it wasn’t me last month at the Mobil On The Run store at Manchester and Geyer. Some rube drove off, disengaging the hose. But on the other side of the pump was a Lamborghini Huracan Performante (2018 MSRP: from $274,390). The pump and pricey car were incinerated when fuel and fumes made contact with the hot engine cover. No one was hurt. When I swung by the station for a look, a blackened fire extinguisher near the missing pump showed just how hot it got. A man snapping photos of the scorched canopy observed that somebody’s insurance company was going to have to shell out for a very nice new car, and the clerk said, “I just work here.”
notable neighbor: wildwood
Rock fanatic Rick Cantor of Wildwood has followed Little Feat since members of the boogie band were Mothers of Invention playing behind Frank Zappa. In 1978, age 21 and a college jock, Cantor’s jaw dropped when a friend asked if he’d like to play some pick-up hoops with Sam Clayton. Incredulous, Cantor knew Clayton as the dude who played congas for Little Feat. Cantor doesn’t divulge who won the basketball game, but he and Clayton have been friends ever since. Cantor, now 60, gets invited to shows in the StL, and he cooks for band members when they’re in town. So, when his 17-year-old daughter Avery took her own life on May 5, 2014, not long after her prom, Clayton was one of the first people he called. As they both wept on the phone, Clayton suggested a benefit concert. A tradition was born: Little Feat has played The Pageant every August since 2015, and proceeds from ticket and merchandise sales benefit A.R.C. Angels Foundation (A.R.C.=Avery Reine Cantor). At this year’s benefit Saturday night (Aug. 11), the foundation will celebrate four students who established peer-to-peer groups to help prevent teen suicide. Each is to receive a $2,500 scholarship. Much has been accomplished in Rockwood School District—in particular at Lafayette, Avery’s high school. In 2014, the district’s materials pertaining to suicide were 10 years old, Cantor says. Treating chronic depression has become more complicated with so many teens drinking on top of antidepressant drugs that in many cases are contraindicated for minors. Rockwood has hired additional social workers and counselors. Avery’s friend Kennedy Brown is a member of the A.R.C. board. In her early 20s now, Kennedy had attempted suicide as a teen. (“Avery was an overachiever,” says Cantor, without irony.) On the day of our visit, Cantor was reeling from the sudden death of board member Jeff Portman, 60—a man Cantor describes as irreplaceable.
Portman had devoted 20 to 30 hours a week to the foundation. After taking a call from another worried board member, Cantor instructed his phone to dial ‘MLB,’ whereupon he shared with his wife, Misty Leigh Byers, the latest information about Portman. MLB, of course, also stands for Major League Baseball, another of Cantor’s passions. His basement is chock full of autographed baseballs, photos and memorabilia, including the 1982 Cardinals World Series trophy awarded to pitcher Jeff Lahti, a neighbor when he and Avery lived in Creve Coeur. Lahti—in 2017 the manager, now a coach, with a Portland, Oregon, minor-league team—shares Avery’s birthday: Oct 8. Coincidentally, Lahti was born Oct. 8, 1956, the day Don Larsen pitched a perfect World Series game for the Yankees. Still one of Cantor’s dearest friends, Lahti’s hands are full with pro baseball, but he tries to pitch in when and where he can. “I have to help others,” Cantor says. “All we’re about is to save one life.” Visit arcangelsfoundation.org.
